I glanced around to make sure the area was clear and pulled the baggie out of my apron pocket. A shiver went through me. Even through the plastic, the dead cockroach made me queasy. I looked through the heads to table five, one of my big tables for the night. It was a bunch of people celebrating their friend's thirtieth birthday. Everyone was having a great time, laughing and being just a little bit on the side of obnoxiously loud. I'd immediately pinpointed that group for the cockroach fiasco, deciding they would make a lot of noise about a dead bug on their nacho platter.

I had curled myself into a corner where I could fill salsa bowls and where no foot traffic passed by. The pig I worked for had slipped into his office an hour earlier, and I hadn't seen him since. I had to admit he'd done a good job starting the place. It had been open a week, and there were already people waiting outside on the benches for a table. Things had gone remarkably smooth with only a few snafus regarding the menu and a rather spoiled chef. And I was making pretty good money in tips. If it weren't for the fact that I was there to destroy the business and its wretched owner, I might have even enjoyed the new job.

A loud round of laughter thundered through the dining room. It was my table. Apparently they were opening gifts. The birthday woman looked so happy. I shoved the dead bug back into my apron. How could I ruin her thirtieth birthday? Shit. I was bad at this revenge thing. As badly as I wanted to ruin Trent in some glorious way, the way he had ruined my life, our lives, I couldn't bring myself to ruin the celebration of the birthday girl.

I carried the nachos and drinks to the birthday table. As I passed by Anna, the head server, she leaned over to let me know I needed to take a break soon.

I nodded and continued to the table with my heavy tray. The mini skirt and the rather creepy interview had given me hope that I might be able to catch the owner doing something shady or against employment practices, but damn, if he wasn't sticking to the book on everything. I'd even gone through the trouble of buying a slim pocket recorder to catch him saying something inappropriate. But the one night he'd come close, by mentioning that my legs looked extra smooth, I'd forgotten to turn on the recorder. I was obviously not going to ever work as a spy or undercover agent.

I let Anna know I'd be on a fifteen minute break, so she could cover my tables. I headed to the backroom refrigerator for my yogurt. I could hear Trent's voice, a voice that made me cringe, coming from the room. I opened the door. Trent was standing at the door to the back alley talking to a sleazy looking guy. Both of their faces shot up as if I'd walked into the room with silver pistols blazing. Trent pushed something he was holding out of view.

"Why are you off the floor?" he asked angrily.

"It's my break." I pointed to the fridge. "I just wanted my yogurt."

He pushed on a smoother face. One thing was certain, the man had an explosive temper, even after the supposed year of anger management classes.

"Right, go ahead and grab your yogurt."

I hurried to the refrigerator as he cut short the conversation at the alley door. As I reached in to grab my Lime Surprise, a little grin popped up on my face. Maybe I was going to nail this guy after all. It seemed he was up to more than just running a restaurant.

I walked back out with a little less grin on my face. So far, my sleuthing skills were laughable. How the heck was I going to bring him down? I'd have to give it some thought when I wasn't dead tired. Two jobs were already taking their toll on me. I wasn't getting home until midnight, and I had to be at my cubicle by eight. Stupidly, I'd imagined this plan going much faster.

I placed my yogurt down in the cramped break room and slipped into the restroom to wash my hands. The restaurant was so crowded and hot, I decided to put my hair up into a ponytail.

Ellie, one of the servers, walked in to check her makeup. "Wow, busy night. Some good tips too."

"Yep, can't complain." I pulled my hair through the rubber band.

Ellie looked over and squinted at the tiny tattoo on the side of my neck. "Rebel, Rebel," she read. "How cute. Because of the song?"

"No." I fingered the tattoo absently. "It's something a good friend used to call me. I could be in the darkest, worst mood, but if I heard him say Rebel, Rebel, it always made me smile."

"Shoot, we can all use a friend like that, huh?"

My thoughts drifted naturally to Joshua. I'd almost forgotten Ellie was standing right there looking in the same mirror.

She tapped me on the arm. "Or maybe he was more than a friend. You've got that starry eyed look my mom gets when she's watching a movie with Brad Pitt."

I smiled. "No, he was just a friend."

"Well"—Ellie took a deep breath—"Back to the trenches and hopefully to the tippers with deep pockets."

"Good luck."

"You too."

I headed back out to the break room and popped open my yogurt. I rarely let my mind get clouded with Joshua memories, but sometimes, they were too hard to keep away.